Chapter 48 Frank

• We rode silently. The only sounds were the engine's quiet purr and the crinkling of paper as I read Gustavo's message repeatedly. I attempted to piece together his intentions. Gustavo was always snakelike, and tonight simply confirmed that. But now I'm not sure what game he was playing or why I was still listening to him.
• I looked across at Antonio, whose fingers were softly stroking the handle of his gun. Neither of us trusted Gustavo—and I barely trusted anyone at this point. But I wanted answers, and if Gustavo was telling the truth, I had to take action.
• The automobile finally came to a stop in front of an old, dilapidated warehouse. The place appeared to have been abandoned for years—a collapsing shell, forgotten by the city and consumed by time.